After an unspecified disaster, the future is quiet and analogue. Behind a doorway in the old town, a private library service flourishes. Signed up by the inscrutable Charlie, patrons subscribe to a membership they don’t fully understand. Retro-tainment, existential eavesdropping, or the future of self-help?
Whether heartbreak, a rainstorm, or habitual brittleness leads you to The Memory Library, your contributions can be accommodated.
This was an okay read. The first half felt like it was never ending and was hard to read. I kept on finding myself wishing it to end. There was a point I was highly thinking of DNFing it. The second half picked up and was a lot more interesting than the first half. I'm just glad I finished it.
I’m not smart enough to say something profound about this book, but I will say that I am totally adding “mentally undercooked” to my list of favourite insults.